The still, stiff form of Mr. Meeson, stretched out beneath the sail, frightened the little lad, he did not know why.  Augusta took him into her arms and kissed him passionately.  She loved the child for his own sake; and, besides, he, and he alone, stood between her and utter solitude.  Then she took him across to the other hut, which had been vacated by the sailors, for it was impossible to stay in the one with the body, which was too heavy for her to move.  In the centre of the sailors’ hut stood the cask of rum which had been the cause of their destruction.  It was nearly empty now—­so light, indeed, that she had no difficulty in rolling it to one side.  She cleaned out the place as well as she could, and returning to where Mr. Meeson’s body lay, fetched the bag of biscuits and the roasted eggs, after which they had their breakfast.

Fortunately there was but little rain that morning, so Augusta took Dick out to look for eggs, not because they wanted any more, but in order to employ themselves.  Together they climbed up on to a rocky headland, where the flag was flying, and looked out across the troubled ocean.  There was nothing in sight so far as the eye could see—­nothing but the white wave-horses across which the black cormorants steered their swift, unerring flight.  She looked and looked till her heart sank within her.

“Will Mummy soon come in a boat to take Dick away?” asked the child at her side, and then she burst into tears.

When she had recovered herself they set to collecting eggs, an occupation which, notwithstanding the screams and threatened attacks of the birds, delighted Dick greatly.  Soon they had as many as she could carry; so they went back to the hut and lit a fire of drift-wood, and roasted some eggs in the hot ashes; she had no pot to boil them in.  Thus, one way and another the day wore away, and at last the darkness began to fall over the rugged peaks behind and the wild wilderness of sea before.  She put Dick to bed and he went off to sleep.  Indeed, it was wonderful to see how well the child bore the hardships through which they were passing.  He never had an ache or a pain, or even a cold in the head.

After Dick was asleep Augusta sat, or rather lay, in the dark listening to the moaning of the wind as it beat upon the shanty and passed away in gusts among the cliffs and mountains beyond.  The loneliness was something awful, and together with the thought of what the end of it would probably be, quite broke her spirit down.  She knew that the chances of her escape were small indeed.  Ships did not often come to this dreadful and uninhabited coast, and if one should happen to put in there, it was exceedingly probable that it would touch at some other point and never see her or her flag.  And then in time the end would come.  The supply of eggs would fail, and she would be driven to supporting life upon such birds as she could catch, till at last the child sickened and died, and she followed it to that dim land that